Undercover
by Breeze1
Summary: Bobby and Darien are given an undercover assignment, as usual it turns out to be more than just a simple assignment.


Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of the Invisible Man, and I am definitely not making any money off of this story. It is all in good fun.

Warning: This is a slash story that explores the possible beginning of a relationship between Bobby and Darien. It also has some violence , but nothing too heavy. 

Thankyou thankyou thankyou to Beth for beta reading this story. She is trying to help me as much as she can, but sometimes I am a little beyond help J Any mistakes left are mine. Thanks again Beth. 

****

Undercover

Leroy Dawes once said that all great things voiced, must be repeated twice so that they are remembered. Henry Goldem said that the only things that needed to be repeated, were those which were obscenely ridiculous. This new plan of the Official's was a prime example of the latter.

"What?" Darien said in surprise. He would have liked to hear more rebillion in his voice, but at the moment he was just a little too shocked to muster it up.

"What!" Hobbes echoed, and then stole a sidelong glance at Darien, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"You're kidding." Darien examined the Official for some hint of amusement. Unfortunately, he found some, which meant that the big man was very serious, and loving each moment.

"What?!" Hobbes seemed to be stuck on the word.

Darien shook his head, "Nah, you can't be serious."

"What!"

Darien continued, "I mean, that's ridiculous! That's, that's…"

"They want us to…" 'Look,' Darien thought, 'Bobby found his tongue. And again, he found himself reduced to babbling.

"You can't be serious…", Darien said hopefully. 

"I am very serious agent Fawkes."

"What?!" Another stunning line from Bobby Hobbes, let's give him a hand folks.

"You want us, me and Hobbes here, to go into that club…"

Bobby continued his line of thought "…to bust some guy who's into drug experimentation…" 

"as a…" could Darien even say it? 

"As partners?" Good choice of words there 'partner'.

"Yes." Oh, the Official was enjoying this way too much. In fact, so was Eberts, that cocky little…

"That is exactly what you are going to do. You're going to stroll in there…" Oh yes, the big man was *really* enjoying. "…act friendly, get to know the patrons." 

"Talk around a little, get involved in the action." Eberts chipped in. He was also going to die. 

"Is it really necessary that we go together?" Was he, Darien Fawkes, actually whining? Bobby looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "You really want to go in there alone? They'd eat you for dinner." 

Good point. 

"Yes," The Official spoke up. "If you two go together then you won't be up for grabs."

Eberts pipes up, "Well, you two already act like a married couple. This should be easy." 

Smug little…

"A married couple? Did he just use the M word?"

My *partner* looks at me, "With a capital "M" my friend."

"Married…" Darien ducked his head slightly

Hobbes raised his eyebrow mischievously. "In holy matrimony." 

"Does this mean they're going to get us rings?" He held his hand in front of him, making a show of examining his slender fingers, trying to decide what a ring would look like upon it.

"Better be real gold, I ain't cheap."

Eberts' voice achieved a new level for *smug,* "You not going in married, it'll make you off limits. We want you to remain approachable." 

Darien couldn't believe that this was actually something that he would be doing. Don't get him wrong or anything, he liked Bobby, but only as a partner, in work, and he was a friend. Suddenly the whole 'partner' thing had taken on a new meaning, since they were supposed to be starting an undercover assignment as a 'couple', going out, in public, together. Him and Hobbes. It was a little awkward to get his mind around, and a little embarrassing as well. But, he would be damned if he let these jerks know how he felt. "So, when do we start?" 

"Tonight." The Official leaned forward and slid a brown folder across his desk. "Everything's in the folder, if you need more information check in with Ricky Lawrence, third floor office eight. I hear he's quite popular with the men." 

"Ha ha, we've got a riot act going on here." Darien stood glaring at the Official, not amused. 

"Remind me to get the cheep tickets next time." Hobbes grumbled as he snatched up the folder and stood to leave. 

Darien was right behind him. "So, what are you going to wear?"

"It'll be a surprise." Hobbes replied smugly, playing along.

"Oh, I like surprises."

"Don't I know it 'honey'." And they were gone, not bothering to close the office door.

Hobbes was going to be by any minute and he still didn't know what to wear. What did people wear to these clubs anyway? He didn't know, he'd never been in one, so now he was standing in a towel, staring into his closet for something to wear. He wondered what Hobbes was wearing, not that it really mattered. Wait, actually it did matter! He was going to be seen with him, and he wanted them to look respectable if nothing else. It was going to be difficult enough to go strutting around with the guy like they were going out, at least if he dressed nice than it would be more bearable. He jumped slightly at a sharp knock at the door. Damn, he'd lost track of the time.

In a few easy strides he was opening the door and he found himself facing Bobby, a grinning Bobby, who was holding something in his hands. Damn! He blinked and focused on his friend once again. Bobby was looking, well, he was…was that a silk shirt?

"Not exactly my first choice of attire, but it'll do." Hobbes smirked and Darien suddenly realized his state of near nakedness. Ah hell. 

"What better way to get people to warm up to us." He joked and moved back into the apartment. Hobbes followed and Darien watched him scan a quick once over of his place. Then Hobbes handed him what he had been carrying, his grin greatly enlarged. What…oh man, flowers. That little… "Wise ass." Darien found himself grumbling as he turned and tossed them on the kitchen's counter.

"Your welcome." Bobby echoed and threw himself onto the couch to wait. Now, what should Darien wear? He looked back at his partner, who he had to admit looked good. The black silk shirt, black pants, black shoes…they looked good on him. Damn, he needed to find something good to wear. Finally he settled on a blue shirt and navy pants and changed quickly in his bathroom. When he came out Hobbes was placing the flowers stems in the sink which was filled with water. Well, he supposed it was a good idea to keep them alive for now.

"Ready to party?" Hobbes grinned over his shoulder. Darien threw him his most withering look and grabbed his jacket. This was *not* going to be a fun evening.

Hobbes parked the car across the street from the club and gingerly jumped out of his seat, waiting for Darien to join him by his door. God this assignment sucked. Out of all the assignments they could have had, they got this one. Give him a terrorist and some bombs any day, he'd take them on with a blindfold and one arm behind his back while singing the National Anthem. He hated undercover work, it really sucked.

Looking toward the club, Hobbes read the blue neon sign, which read "Romeo." Simple, yet implying so much. He glared, really hating places like this. Darien finally joined him and he gave the kid a once over. Not to shabby, he'd been afraid the guy would dress in the layers he usually insisted on wearing. Colours like orange, ugh. Who wears orange? Maybe that little gland was affecting his everyday style.

Darien looked a little nervous, glancing at the club, at Hobbes, and then everywhere else. Who wouldn't be nervous? He was being ordered to "go out" with Bobby Hobbes, that would make anyone nervous. Hobbes chuckled at himself humorlessly and glanced sideways at his partner. Might as well get this disaster on the road. 

"Ready?"

"No, not really. But hey, I suppose this could be a learning experience."

"Just don't kiss me and you might survive."

"Aw, c'mon, Hobbes, your breath isn't *that* bad." 

"Wise ass." Hobbes knew that humor always eased his partners tension, this time it worked like a charm. They walked across the road and stopped at the door. Hobbes raised his arm to knock but Darien stopped him, moving to take Hobbes' place at the front of the door. "Allow me."

"Think they're going to let you in over me?"

"Well, you need that extra bit of finesse to get into these places…" 

"In that case you don't stand a chance." Hobbes found himself grumbling, though he knew they stood better chances of getting in with Darien's looks. The door's view slot slid open and Darien grinned charmingly. A second later the door opened and he looked smugly at Hobbes. Hobbes just smiled and followed him inside, now was the time to start the charade. 

The room was hot and smelled of sweat, smoke, and alcohol. The music pounded heavily in his ears and Hobbes suddenly remembered exactly why he didn't like these places. Loud, crowded, full of men, and anyone of them could be a spy. Hiding his unease, he walked beside Darien, watching everyone he could. He saw the patron's eyes hungrily drinking in his partner, and he silently groaned. They hadn't even made it to the bar yet and he could see them making suggestions with their eyes. These men were definitely going to start swarming them soon, and when he felt Darien stiffen slightly beside him, he knew he had sensed it too. 

Okay, no problem. It was time to take charge, stake his claim, and his claim was a tall, skinny ex-thief who had hair that looked like it had been cut by a weed-wacker. Hobbes looked at the leering men and snaked his arm around Darien's waist, pulling him closer. For a moment the kid stiffened even more and Hobbes almost held his breath. 'Come on kid, don't blow it.' A second later he felt Darien relax into his embrace and throw his own arm over Hobbes' shoulders. Good, they had gotten through that. Some of the gazing men sighed and turned away, looking for another target, and others still let their eyes linger a while. 

They stopped at the bar and ordered their drinks, two beers. Hobbes didn't want them getting wasted here, not while on the job. He then turned to his partner and grinned suggestively, leaning closer. Darien was quick to respond and in seconds his ear was by Hobbes lips, which was exactly what Hobbes wanted.

"We're going to have to split sometime and mingle, but don't do anything too suggestive. I think these guys are warming up to you fairly quickly." 

"Yeah, well, they seem to be getting their share of eye candy from you as well." Hobbes grinned like he was extremely happy about what he had just been told, and leaned closer still.

"I think the smoke is getting to your gland, flattery is not pretty on you." He leaned back and took a small swig from his glass, watching Darien from the corner of his eye. The kid looked thoughtful for a moment and then turned to his own beer. Something brushed Hobbes' back lightly and he turned to see what it was, or, who it was. The man looked at him appreciatively and Hobbes waited expectantly. 

"Want to dance?" His voice was low, suggestive. 'Ah, to dance or not to dance. That is the Question.'

"Sorry, I ain't much of a dancer." Well, it was the truth, sort of. The man's smile dropped slightly and he turned to Darien, who had been watching in amusement. 

"How 'bout you? Want to burn up the floor?" 'Burn up the floor? What the…'

"Sure, you don't mind do you Bruce?" 'Bruce?'

"Knock yourself out 'Danny', but save the last one for me." There, he was pretty good at this 'claiming' business if he did say so himself. Hobbes watched Darien saunter off and get close on the dance floor, moving to the beat. He watched a moment and then turned back to his drink. Now, he needed a plan…

"Hey, I'm Rich." 'These guys don't waste any time do they?' Well, he supposed that was the point in this place.

"Bruce." He nodded and the man sat down. Hobbes looked him over quickly. He was tall, like Fawkes, black hair, dark skin, and green eyes. Contacts? The guy was quite a looker, Hobbes wondered what he was doing with him.

"I've never seen you two here before. First time?"

"We usually stick to the "Stingray", decided to try a new joint tonight." Hobbes held back a smug grin. It looked like that extra research was paying off.

"Well, you came to the right place."

"Yeah, it looks like it." He amused the guy who was looking at him constantly, sizing him up. He threw a quick glance at Darien, who looked like he was enjoying himself. 'Right…'

"Ever worn handcuffs?" That quickly pulled Hobbes' attention back to Rich. 'What the hell?' Well, it looked like subtlety was out of the question. He decided to see where this would lead.

"A few times actually. I usually have a pair on me, but I decided to leave them at home tonight." Rich seemed to think that was amusing. Well, it was only the truth, if not quite in the way it was meant.

"Ahh, a man who likes to be in control."

"You could say that."

"I can see that you're the strong silent type. Like to try new things, an adventurous guy."

"You psychic or something?"

"Actually, I'm a doctor" 'Ohh, a doctor. Nice way to brag there mister smarty pants…wait, this could actually mean something. A doctor, experimentation, coincidence?'

"Really? What kind?" Feigning interest was no longer difficult for Hobbes. The man smiled and his sparkling white teeth were put on display.

"I'm the doctor of love." 'Great, a joker.' Hobbes just grinned and took another mouthful of his drink. He glanced over at Darien. Damn, it looked like he'd stopped watching his partner a little to long. The guy he'd been dancing with had been replaced by someone new, and a lot friendlier. A little too friendly for Hobbes' taste. 

A surge of protectivness jolted through him and he stood, excusing himself politely. He headed in the direction of his partner with purpose set on his features. The dancing couples seemed to move out of his way and finally he was there. This guy was huge. Not huge enough to intimidate Bobby Hobbes, but huge all the same. He was as tall as Darien and built like a bull. He was also moving rather forcefully against Darien, who was starting to look a little trapped.

"Excuse me. Sorry to cut in, but this is my dance." He looked up at the big man, waiting for him to step aside or make a challenge. 

"Wait your turn shorty. He's mine for now."

"Last I checked he was his own, but if this place has territorial rules than let me state mine for you. Danny is with me. Not you, and I want this dance."

"I don't believe that he's with you. Prove it, and I'll leave him alone." 'Prove it? He wasn't a lawyer.' How could he prove it? He could kick the guy's ass, but that would draw too much attention and he'd probably be thrown out of this place. That would be bad for the assignment.

Now Darien was looking at him, his eyes clearly saying that Hobbes had better have a plan. He was working on a plan, after all, he was known for quick thinking. Hobbes looked at Darien. 'Prove it? Yeah, he could do that.' His lips curled upwards smugly.

"You want proof?" He looked in the mans brown eyes, and then turned to Fawkes. In one swift motion he cupped his hand behind Darien's neck and pulled his lips down to meet his own, not quite believing that he was actually doing this. Fortunately Darien seemed to sense that it had been coming because he didn't resist. In fact, he played along quite well. His warm lips crushing into Hobbes' and lingering a moment before parting slightly. Looks like he really wanted to prove it, yet who could blame him when faced with this Mammoth. Suddenly Hobbes found their tongues wrestling, slipping and twisting around each other. A moment later he broke it off and looked up at his challenger, who glared back. 

"How's that for proof?" Catcalls were sounding throughout the room, but Hobbes ignored them. He didn't know when he'd be able to look Darien in the face again. He couldn't believe he just did that.

"It's good enough." The man threw one last longing look at Fawkes before sauntering off. Not giving Darien a chance to say anything Hobbes threw his arm around his waste and started pulling him towards the door. He'd had enough for one night. He looked back over his shoulder saw Rich and Mammoth Man arguing by the bar, and filed that information away for later. They still hadn't said anything by the time they reached the car, and remained silent until the engine was rumbling and the wheels were rolling. Then, it seemed that Darien couldn't remain silent any longer, and he burst out laughing.

"Oh man, you should have seen the look on that guys face when you came strolling up there. I suppose he's not used to 'challenges', at least not from "shorty's" like you." Hobbes spared a glare at his partner before returning to watch the road. He wants to play around a little to relieve the tension? Okay, that was cool with Hobbes.

"You sure know how to pick 'em Fawkes. Next time you might want to stick to the nice ones." They spent the rest of the drive joking around, until Hobbes pulled up in front of Darien's place. He turned to look at his partner seriously. This hadn't been just a big joke to him.

"You did all right in there. Kept your cool."

"Yeah well," He opened the door and closed it, speaking through the window. "I owe you one for saving my butt."

"Hey, I can't let seventeen million worth in flesh be mistreated now can I. I'm just sorry you had to go through that." Hobbes nodded his goodbye, and a second later he was driving off to his own place, his mind racing with thoughts. 

Darien slowly walked into his apartment and made sure that his door was locked. Well, that had definitely been a weird evening. They'd spent a total of half an hour at that bar, he'd been hit on by two guys, one who had been rather intimidating, and the other had just wanted a dance to waste time until his date arrived. Hobbes had kissed him. That had been very strange, but it had been necessary, it had been the proof he'd needed to get away from "Jack". He had to admit they had gotten into the role rather well, and Hobbes had been one hell of a kisser. Who would have thought.

He shrugged out of his jacket tossing it over the nearest chair, and kicked off his shoes, shoving them beside the door. He walked into the kitchen and paused a moment, looking in confusion at the sink. Then he remembered and he had to smile. Hobbes, no matter how uncomfortable he might be about this assignment, was playing along in order to try and make it easier for them to handle. Or maybe he just wanted to annoy Darien and thought that flowers would do the trick. Well, they had annoyed him, but now he grinned and went to a cupboard, pulling out a glass Vase. Yes he owned a vase…he used to keep his goldfish in there until he could afford a tank. He filled it with water and pulled the flowers from the sink, placing them on the counter. He grabbed a pair of scissors and began the process of cutting the stems on an angle. Cutting on an angle allowed the water to flow through the stems easier, keeping them alive longer. He smiled, remembering his aunt. She had been crazy about flowers, bought a new bouquet every three days. She'd ramble on about them for hours if she had been given the chance. 

Finishing his task he placed the flowers on the center of his counter, their smell invading his senses. Ummm, nice. He threw out the garbage and changed into his boxers and shirt. No point in staying dressed when he wasn't going to go anywhere. Wonder what Hobbes is doing right now. Not that it really mattered, well, not much anyways. Tonight had been…interesting. Definitely different, but it didn't go as bad as he thought it would. He and Hobbes had been pretty convincing, though they didn't make any real progress, they were now known in the place. Hopefully it would get easier. 

He chuckled as he remembered Hobbes glaring up at Jack. _You want proof? How's that for proof._ Tthat had been pretty good proof. As long as nobody at the agency found out Darien was okay with it, he knew he wouldn't enjoy being the butt of jokes for the next month. Hobbes had been a little quiet about it though. Darien wondered if he'd ever kissed a guy before. Probably not, Hobbes was too much of a womanizer. That evening had probably made him as uncomfortable as hell_. I'm sorry you had to go through that. _It hadn't bothered Darien, so now he was wondering why Hobbes had said that. What had his partner been thinking? 

The next night they strolled into the "Romeo" as if they were regulars. They were smiling and nodding around at the men who greeted them, Hobbes's arm wrapped securely around Darien's waist. The ex-thief grinned, it looked like Hobbes was not going to allow a repeat of the evening before, which was fine with him. They sat at a table and joked around for a bit, acting all flirtatious. Uhhh, he'd been reduced to a flirt. This sucked. Darien grinned when he saw his first dance partner from the night before approach him. Looked like it was time to split and get some work done. 

"Care to dance?" Ryan asked.

"I was waiting for you to ask." Darien stood to follow. An easy nod from Hobbes told him it was okay, and he was off to the floor. Ryan had been a good dancer the night before, and it had been fun until the ogre had stepped in. Now they moved casually to the music, Darien kept his gaze moving around the room and on his partner. Although Hobbes might think that Darien was the only one getting stared at, Darien noticed quite a few eyes that seemed welded to his partner. Hell, if he'd never met Hobbes until coming to this club his eyes might have been welded to him too. The man looked good! 

His attention drifted back to Ryan, Darien could smell his cologne. A slow song came on and they moved together, easily finding a rhythm. Darien hadn't thought that they played slow songs in places like this, looks like he'd been wrong. Their hips swayed and arms were locked. They didn't say anything, not really needing to. Glancing over Ryan's shoulder Darien saw Jack, watching him from behind the bar. The man was the bartender? That was probably something to check up on. His gaze drifted to Hobbes, and he saw his partner was once again conversing with the man from the day before. He looked interested in the conversation. Maybe he was finding something out…

"You really like him." It was a statement, and one Darien had been totally unprepared for. He stared dumbly for a moment before realizing he should answer. "Sure. He's a great guy." He shrugged slightly in their embrace.

"Then you should watch out for him." Ryan's voice was warning, and it started to make Darien uneasy.

"He's a big boy. He doesn't need me to watch out for him." Darien defended his partner.

"You're not hearing me Danny. The guy he's with, his names Kyle Richard's. He owns a few clubs like this, all over town. He usually doesn't visit the same one two nights in a row, which means he is seriously interested in your guy over there. It could mean trouble." This was starting to get a little weird. Was Ryan saying that this Kyle guy could be their suspect? 

"What kind of trouble?" Ryan moved closer, smiling, but his voice was serious.

"He's not exactly the nicest guy you'll ever meet. He's never been caught in the act, but people say he's into weird drugs and shit. Used to be some sort of Chemist. He's changed his name a few times though, so you won't be able to find him in the computer records." 

Darien resisted the urge to pull back in surprise, not wanting to blow his cover. Did this guy just make him as an agent?

"What makes you think I'd want to go searching for that information?" The music ended and Ryan pulled away, smiling knowingly. 

"Don't worry, I won't tell. Thanks for the dance." Darien stood there a moment. Should he go after him and demand more information? Find out how Ryan knew he was looking for this 'Kyle'? No. It was too dangerous, it would blow his cover if it hadn't already been compromised. Damn he hated all this undercover stuff. It just made everything way to complicated. He turned back to his table and noticed Hobbes was alone again. He took a seat and smiled at his partner.

"Want to dance?" Darien hid his amusement at the startled look his partner gave him before concealing it.

"You know I don't dance."

"Chicken."

"I can live with that. I don't do this type of dancing." 'So he didn't 'do' this type of dancing.' Well, that was to bad because Darien wanted to talk to him and that was probably the only safe way without risking being overheard.

"Oh come on." He said exasperated. "You don't dance 'this' way. What a load of bull. How do you dance then, if you don't mind me asking."

"We'll just keep that my little secret. Besides, I think I'm ready for a little nightcap. Ready to go?" That was an even better way to talk to Hobbes, though he had kind of wanted to dance. 

"I've been ready for a while now." 

A man watched them carefully from the corner of the dance floor, his dark eyes following Hobbes' departing figure. He hadn't been sure if he was just seeing things when he'd first spotted him. But no, he'd been right, and it looked like Richard's had been getting very close to him. That was dangerous, especially for business. Richard's probably had no clue who Hobbes really was. It looked like he would have to inform him, Richard's was his boss after all. Maybe he would even get a little promotion out of this. He smiled to himself and stood, heading over to the bar, and Richard.

The doors slammed shut and the car was out of its parking spot before Darien had even reached for his seat belt. 

"What do you have?" Hobbes was all business, staring intently at the road as he picked his way through the traffic.

"Turns out that guy you're working on, Rich? His full name is Kyle Richards. Big man around those clubs. Owns a few of them, but usually doesn't show up twice in a row."

"Seems he's changed his tactics. Why would he do that…" Hobbes mumbled off in thought, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. Was Bobby that dense? Darien watched Hobbes as he concentrated. He was probably going through every possible reason known to man to figure out why Richards had come twice to the same bar. "There must be something going down there. A deal or something…but that doesn't make sense because I haven't seen him talk to anyone except that bar tender…" He was quiet again, carefully watching the road. Darien continued to watch him, deciding that Hobbes really had no clue why Richards had come twice in a row. He couldn't stay quiet any longer.

"Oh, come on, man!" 

Hobbes spared him a glance, annoyed. "You're breaking my concentration here…"

"It's you! Richards came back 'cause he knew you were going to be there." 

Hobbes looked straight ahead a moment before answering, his voice loaded with disbelief. "Have you been shooting up with something other than counter agent, or is this just your sense of humor kicking in again?" 

"Face it, he's got it bad for you." Darien teased.

"No, he doesn't. There's another reason."

"If there is another reason, then why has he found his way to your side both nights, huh?"

"He was bored. Give it up Fawkes, that ain't the reason."

"Then give me one good excuse that would prove otherwise."

"He was just having fun. Lay off all right." 

Darien stopped his teasing abruptly. Something in Hobbes' voice was telling him 'enough was enough.' 

"Is that all the information you got?" Hobbes was back to business.

"No. Kyle Richards isn't this guy's real name, he's gone through quiet a few names, so we won't be able to find out who he really is."

"That's where you're wrong Mister Know-It-All. I'll find out who he is." 

"How?"

"A good agent never tells."

"So you shouldn't have any problems telling me." The comment was rightfully ignored and Darien grinned. "Also, this guy is supposed to be into drugs, he was some sort of chemist."

"Makes sense. He said he was a doctor, I thought he was joking." Richards admitted he was a doctor? Darien grinned, Richadrs probably used it as a bad pick-up line. 'I'm the Doctor of Love.' Darien could picture Hobbes' face if someone actually used a line like that on him. 'I'm the Doctor of love'. Bang, on the floor, broken nose…He chuckled at the image. 

"What?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking."

"You think too much if you ask me." They were silent for a moment. "What were you thinking about?" 

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that. What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing important."

"Oh, I see. Nothing important huh? Maybe I should rephrase the question then. Who were you thinking about?"

"What?" Darien raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Who were you thinking about?"

"Not that I'm thinking about anyone, but I wouldn't tell you if I was."

"Oh come on. We're partners. We're supposed to talk about that sort of stuff."

"Then why are you always so uptight when I try to pull you into those conversations?"

"I'm not uptight. I just like to keep you guessing."

"Right."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Again with the 'nothing.' Would you just give me a straight answer!"

"You first." 

Hobbes glared at him and Darien smirked victoriously. He had won that round.

Sounding very self-assured, Hobbes continued their conversation. "All right. Ask a question." 

It looked like Hobbes wasn't willing to back down, he always had to win. Okay, if he wanted to play hardball, Darien wasn't going to back down.

"Why do you refuse to admit that those guys at the club might have found you attractive." 

Hobbes looked at him incredulously. Yep, he'd taken him by surprise on that one. Welcome to the big leagues 'partner'.

"That's the question you want to ask me?

"Yep, now answer it."

"You'd rather ask me about something that happened an hour ago, instead of something about my past?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Hey, now don't go and try to get out of answering this by changing the subject."

"Who said I was trying to change the subject?"

"I did…"

"I just thought you'd be more interested in something about my past and all. It is pretty classified and you know next to nill about it, where as I know pretty much everything about yours."

"So?"

"What do you mean so?"

"It shouldn't matter when the question is based. I asked it and you'll now answer it."

"Right." The car stopped and Darien got out, leaning into the window to wait for his answer. Hobbes looked at him, his deep brown eyes were focused, lost in thought, contemplating how he would respond to Darien's question. A moment later Darien got his answer.

"Night Fawkes." And Hobbes drove away, leaving Darien standing on the street in front of his apartment, staring after him. Hobbes had just chosen to lose a battle. He didn't think that had ever happened before. In fact, he was pretty sure that it had never happened before. Hobbes had never backed down from a challenge, no matter how small. Well, except when he got confused…but that was different. Tonight he had completely backed off. Darien walked into his apartment and fell onto his couch.

What was it that he didn't want to say? Hobbes refused to believe that somebody could be attracted to him, and he refused to talk about it. Well, he supposed he couldn't drag answers from his partner, but it was really starting to annoy him. Hobbes was constantly flirting with women, and he didn't show any signs of being shy about it. Why? Darien sat and thought. He thought for a long time, remembering all the times he'd been with Hobbes. The man flirted with every woman alive. Never gave the Keeper a break. Then again, he was never taken back when he was shut down, it was like he expected it. He just brushed them off and went on to his next pursuit. Typical Hobbes. Maybe it was too typical of Hobbes. 

When those guys had taken interest in him he denied it. Like he didn't believe it. Memories of previous conversation came back to Darien. Hobbes sitting in his car, all serious. "I'm sorry you had to go through that." Was he sorry about Darien being hit on, or was it the fact that Hobbes had kissed Darien? God, the man was confusing! And it annoyed Darien even more, because now he *really* wanted to know what was wrong. He hadn't been upset by the kiss. In fact, he had actually enjoyed it…whoa, where had that come from? There was no way he could start to like Hobbes. He was just a good kisser, that was all. Seriously though, he hadn't minded it at all. And when the kiss had ended Darien had felt sure that there had been something more to the kiss than just their assignment. But Hobbes hadn't met his eyes after, which meant he was probably all embarrassed from kissing a guy. Hobbes was probably the straightest guy he'd ever met…

Anyway, the main point of this whole thought process was to find out what was wrong with Hobbes. Now, it was becoming pretty clear to Darien what the problem was. Hobbes had this major self-doubt problem. He needed to get over that, fast. Darien smiled to himself, because he now had a mission, and that was one, Bobby Hobbes.

Hobbes drove right by his apartment, heading for Queen's court. It was a place with lots of restaurants, many different types of restaurants. This also meant many different types of people, and many different types of informants; his informants. His type of place.

He'd been working this court for a while and had a good list of people he liked to show up and annoy. Right now he was headed to "Ching's Buffet" A nice little all you can eat place, where Micheals worked. Michaels was just the guy he wanted to talk to right now. 

He walked into the restaurant and headed straight for the door to the kitchen. A waiter began to protest and he calmly flashed his badge, pushing buy the big man. He casually sauntered through the hot kitchen, searching for his target. 'Ah ha. Gotcha you little weasel.'

"Micheals! What a nice surprise." The skinny man turned quickly and stared down at Hobbes nervously.

"Hey, Mr. Hobbes. What brings you to this part of the kitchen?"

"Oh, I think you know." Hey motioned towards the washroom and the man reluctantly entered it, Hobbes following close behind. The room needed cleaning, but that wasn't Hobbes' problem, and he wasted no time getting down to business.

"What do you know about a Kyle Richards?"

"Who?"

"Don't play with me. I ain't in the mood." He glared Micheals began to sweat nervously.

"He owns a couple of clubs around town. Into a few drugs, likes experimenting with them."

"What's his full name?" The man blinked and stared a moment too long before answering.

"I don't know."

"How many times do I have to tell you not to play around with me huh?"

"Honest, I don't know…"

"Micheals, Micheals, Micheals…" Hobbes tisked, suddenly looking sympathetic. "You know what will happen if I don't believe you right?"

"Mr. Hobbes, I…"

"Answer the question."

"Okay. All right. But you have to stop bugging me at the work place okay?" His eyes were hopeful and Hobbes actually felt bad for the guy, well, only for a few seconds. Micheals had fired a gun in Hobbes' direction once, and anyone who shot at Bobby Hobbes lost all sympathy. He glared and Micheals stumbled on, telling his secrets. "His real names Marcus Richard Kinsley. Dr. Marcus Richard Kinsley. Used to be big in the scientific world until he got thrown out a few years back for illegal experimentation. He 'supposedly' off'd himself from depression a few days later, but he set the thing up. With his old life out of the way he does the clubs, gets down with the boys in his own way. Still does the drugs."

"Where's his place at?"

"That, I honestly don't know. Sorry."

"Sure you are. Later, Micheals." Hobbes, satisfied with the information, walked out of the washroom and into two large waiters. They always seemed to think they could beat up on him. Again, he flashed his badge and they backed off, glaring. He grinned at them threateningly. "You guys clean this shit-hole up or I'm going to have the health inspectors up your ass." They quickly went back to work, not wanting to provoke him. Good. Think they can pick on a guy who's shorter than everyone in the place. Think again.

He drove home, picking up some takeout on the way. When he was inside his apartment he wrote Kinsley's full name down on a note pad. He wouldn't forget it, but it was better to be safe. He sat down on his computer and logged onto the Agency's files. About fifteen passwords later, hey, he was a cautious guy, he was into the governments files. Well, the ones he was 'allowed' access to, anyway. He typed the name in and pulled out one, Dr. Marcus Richard Kinsley's File. Bingo, he cracked his knuckles in satisfaction. The picture matched. Now all they had to do was get the solid evidence and this guy would be stashed in the slammer for the rest of his miserable life. 

He printed the picture and information, placing it into a file and shoving it in his freezer, at the back. He couldn't risk just anyone coming in and seeing it now could he. He checked the door, making sure the alarm was set and all the bolts were secure. Once he was certain, he headed towards his washroom. He needed to get the reek of smoke off his body.

Stripping down he stepped into the path of hot water, letting it soothe his tense muscles. _Why do you refuse to admit those guys at the club might have found you attractive?_ He wasn't refusing to admit it. If it was true he would have bragged about it or something. Why couldn't Darien just lay off about those things? The guys at that place had only been looking for someone to mess with, a new toy to pass the time. It always happened, they just wanted a little amusement. Hobbes could amuse, everyone made that clear to him, but he also knew that people didn't find him attractive. On top of that they had to put up with his whole personality which, he had been told many times, was a total turn off. People just didn't like him, and he had accepted that a long time ago. He had accepted it, and then secured himself with that knowledge when Viv left. Oh yeah, she had made her point all right. 

He ducked his head under the spray, trying to ignore his thoughts, distract himself. Now Darien was going and being all personal and stuff. What was with that? He didn't need that. He liked Darien, as his partner and stuff. He didn't want the guy to dig to deep, it might scare him away. Besides, Bobby was fine with the whole friendship, and 'I'll save your life if you'll save mine' type of deal. It was more than he'd been expecting when this job began. A lot more. 

He found himself a lot more comfortable around Darien than he was around anyone else. That was saying something. The guy was fun to talk to, fun to joke with. He actually understood Bobby's sense of humor…must be the gland or something. Bobby sighed and finished washing. After shutting the water off he dried himself with a towel and wrapped it securely around his waste. The mirror was fogged up as he walked by it, out the door. It was better that way, he wouldn't have to see himself. 

He walked out of his bathroom, and stopped dead in his tracks. This wasn't good.

"Hello Bruce, or should I say Robert? Agent Robert Hobbes of the FBI." Marcus Kinsley sat sprawled on his couch, comfortably channel surfing, a gun lying neatly on his lap. Hobbes could see two men standing by his front door, and another was going through his fridge. Hobbes had left his gun in its holster, hanging on his coat rack. His other weapons were to far away to get to in time. How the hell did they figure out who he was?

"You know, you really had me going for a while there." Kinsley set the control down and stood, fully facing him. His eyes slowly tracking up Hobbes' body and the agent struggled to not shiver in disgust. "To bad it was all a ruse. I had some big plans for you."

"Yeah, well I've never been one for plans." Hobbes glared, doing his best to look dignified while standing in a towel. He felt the eyes of the other three men on him now. 

"Oh, it's not to disappointing I suppose. I did have to change my plans around a little, but I'm still looking forward to carrying them out. Why don't you go get dressed now, we can't have you leaving your home without looking decent can we." 

Damn, damn, damn! Damn! oh, did he already think that? He heard the cocking of a gun and looked at the man who had been in the kitchen. 

"Now." Hey, who was he to argue? He slowly walked towards his room, the man following him, gun trained on his back the whole time. The guy was going to watch him get dressed? He swallowed his pride and changed as if it meant nothing to him that someone was watching. After a moment he was done, he only needed shoes. Slowly he walked back into his living room, Kinsley was still standing, and smiling. He raised his gun. Aw crap. His world went dark.

Darien heard a slight rattling at his door, and he instantly identified the sound as someone picking a lock. Years of practice paid off sometimes. He jumped off the couch quickly, fear beginning to take over. After a few seconds of holding his breath the door began to swing slowly open, he quicksilvered. His world turning to black and white, he slowly began moving to the wall. A second later two men entered, guns in hand, and they began to effectively search his home. It only took a second to realize that the bigger guy was Jack, from the bar.

The men prowled over the place, barley making a sound, until they met in the middle with no Darien Fawkes.

"Where the hell is he!" Jack demanded.

"I don't know! I swear he came in here and didn't leave. I watched the door the whole time!"

"I can't believe this. Rich is going to be pissed…"

"He must have stepped out when I blinked or something. I'm pretty sure he didn't know I was watching him."

"It doesn't matter now, we lost him. The other guy will have to do." They turned and left, Darien shed his invisible coating and stared at the door for a moment. The other guy will have to do? Ah hell, they must have gotten Hobbes! He grabbed his keys and cell phone, rushing out after his two would-be abductors. How the hell had they figured out they were Fed's? The only people who knew where…Kyle. Crap, he'd completely forgotten about him! He hadn't even mentioned it to Hobbes who had been completely oblivious to the fact that their cover had been blown. What a stupid, amateurish, idiotic…he jumped into his car and pulled into traffic, his eyes watching a black Mercedes, four cars ahead of him. Jack was in that car, and he would lead him to Hobbes, if they even had Hobbes. Maybe they didn't have Hobbes, maybe he should call…no, he might lose his concentration and let them disappear in the traffic. He couldn't do that.

He followed them for about fifteen minutes before they pulled up to the back entrance of a club. He parked on the street and ran towards them, invisible of course. It wouldn't do to have them know he was there now would it? The two men went to a door that was lost in the shadows, and he followed them in. Luckily, it was slow to swing shut.

The room he was in was well lit, a single chair was placed along one wall. Jack and his partner didn't spare the place a second glance as they marched into a hall and another room. Now Darien could hear the clubs music beating through the wall, slightly shaking the ground. The new room had a few couches, and a door with a small window at the far end.

"Go to the club and chill. I'll handle Rich." Jack ordered, and the other man nodded gratefully. "You just remember to meet me later, for payment."

"With interest man." The guy grinned lasciviously and walked back out the door, past Darien. He let his eyes follow him a moment, making sure he left. Jack was looking through the small window, and he was grinning slightly. What the hell was going on here? A moment later the big man disappeared through the door. Darien rushed to the window, looking in. Ah crap!

He dug the phone out of his pocket and called the agency.

"Claire?" He whispered into the receiver. What was she doing working so late? "What are you doing there so late? No, never mind. Look, we've got the bust and the evidence for the case here. I need some guys to come down to a club called "Season's" on Chance Drive. You better come too, and bring some of the blue stuff. I might need a shot." He hung up without giving her the time to utter a single word. Damn, he hoped she would hurry. He, however, could not wait. He opened the door and walked in.

Jesus his head hurt. What hit him? No wait, he didn't really need to know. Hobbes slowly regained consciousness, feeling his head rolling slightly to the right, and a weird groaning escaped his lips. He wasn't even aware that he could make sounds like that.

The last thing he remembered was having a shower and thinking about Darien. Was Darien here? Where exactly was here? It felt like he was sitting up, on something hard. A chair maybe? Come on now, open those eyes…you can do it, no sweat. It's just two little pieces of skin that you need to move up…ah, there we are. No wait. He wanted to close them again, this hadn't been what he had wanted to wake up to.

He looked slowly around the room, trying to determine where he was. Well, it was a room. Actually, he was in the center of a medium sized room with light green walls, a door to his right, a dry wall ceiling that had a heating vent in the far right corner, and there was a black leather couch lying against the wall in front of him, no unattached pillows. Did he miss anything? Yes, he hadn't checked out what was behind him yet. He moved to push himself out of the seat, but his arms held firmly in place. 'What the hell?' He looked at them and glared. Damn stupid rope! Whoever decided to invent it should be shot! He glared at it a moment, trying to decide what this meant.

What had happened…Kinsley! That slime bag had somehow gotten past the security system in his home and ambushed him. Why? How had he found out that he was an agent? Hobbes didn't think he'd given anything away. In fact he had thought he had been pretty damned convincing, then again, that was just what he thought. It didn't mean it was true.

The door on his right opened with a creak. Needs a little oil there…Kinsley waltzed through, a man in a suit following him. The man was one of the goons from his apartment. Kinsley strolled casually to the couch and sat down, leaning into the soft cushions. He stared at Hobbes for a few minutes, lust clear on his features. Hobbes resisted the urge to squirm and stared back, bored. Kinsley's eyes were blue-grey, like an ocean in the calm of a storm. Hadn't his eyes been green the other day? 

"I don't like you." Gee, really? "It's not right to play with a man's heart. I have to admit it really hurt at first, to find out you were just trying to 'catch' me in the act." The door opened again, but Hobbes kept his eyes trained on Kinsley, that was until the man came and stood beside Kinsley. Oh shit, he recognized this guy. What was his name?

"Hey there Mr. Hobbes. Fancy seeing you here, all tied up and no place to go." Why that little rat! Hobbes remembered now, the man was called Rafael Stark; he'd busted him on smuggling a few years back. When had he gotten out? Hobbes glared at them both now, wondering what the hell was going to happen, until Stark pulled a syringe into view and handed it to Kinsley. The man stood and walked to Hobbes. The door opened again, what the hell! This was one party he really didn't want to be at. 

He tested his bonds again, feeling the rope pressing deeply into his skin. Jack stood beside Stark, watching now. None of this phased Kinsley, who tapped the syringe with his index finger and squeezed out the excess air bubbles. This was not good.

"Hey, no hard feelings here guys. I was just following orders and stuff…" It looked like talking wasn't going to help him out any so he once again looked for a way to escape within the next second. The chance never came as his T-shirt was pushed up and the needle plunged through his flesh. The initial was sharp, but then he couldn't feel the needle as his body began to turn cold.

"This is just something I've been working on for a while now. It's supposed to enhance pleasure to almost unimaginable lengths."

"Then I hate to be the first person to tell you it doesn't work." Hobbes said through chattering teeth.

"Oh, it works, just give it a second." That was not what Hobbes wanted to hear. His body, which had been engulfed in an almost paralyzing cold, was suddenly warm again, in normal temperature. Kinsley stood there and smiled, his teeth as white as snow. The rope holding Hobbes to the chair began to increase in pressure. It got tighter and tighter until he was sure it would separate his hand from his arm. Oh god, what the hell was this! Breathe, he had to remember to breathe. Suddenly the pain lessened to a tolerable level and he let a sigh of relief escape his lips. Jack had loosened the ropes, he had loosened them so much that Hobbes would probably be able to easily slip out of them, but when he moved to try the slightest added pressure caused pain to scorch a path up his arms. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow… Kinsley moved beside his ear and whispered softly.

"What do you think of my drug?" Kinsley dug his fingers into his arm. He bit his lip to keep from groaning in pain, and lit a stabbing fire in his mouth. He was super sensitive, to everything. Shit, this week couldn't get any better.

"I. Think. It. Sucks." He glared at Kinsley who pulled back slightly.

"Oh, it doesn't all 'suck'." He brought his hand up and gently ran his fingers down the sensitive skin of Hobbes' arm, tickling it. The sensation crawled over his entire arm, giving him goosebumps. Now, that wasn't bad, but it was revolting considering who had touched him. 

The doors hinges creaked once again, but this time all the men in the room turned to look at it. What? Was this person not invited to the party? Jack headed to the door and looked at it a moment in confusion. Then he checked outside, and came back in shrugging his shoulders.

"It doesn't look like anybody." Jack replied and Kinsley stared at him a moment, suddenly realizing he was there.

"Weren't you supposed to bring somebody back with you?"

"We couldn't find him boss, he slipped out on us."

"And you came here!?"

"He couldn't have followed us, he was nowhere to be found. He didn't even know we were after him."

"He is a federal agent for bloody hell!" Hobbes listened while trying to rid himself of the tingling in his arm, and pain in his wrists and lip. What were they talking about? Had they gone after Fawkes? Sounds like he'd given them the slip…he heard a thud and turned his head toward the couch. Stark was out cold, lying face down on the black leather.

"Shit! Did he shoot up?"

"I don't think so sir…"

"No, you never think! You just…" Kinsley's angry words were cut off abruptly when jack jerked slightly and then fell toppling forward. Kinsley jumped to the side making no effort to catch the large man. Instead he looked frantically around the room for an explanation to the collapse of his companions. Hobbes didn't make any effort to hide his grin. Fawkes was here, in the room. He knew it, but Kinsley didn't.

"Looks like they've messed around with your special drugs one to many times." He felt his grin widen even more as Kinsley glared, trying to get control of the situation. A moment later he to collapsed to the ground in a heap, smacking his head on the hard floor. Good, serves you right you little… Darien shed his quicksilver while standing over top of the unconscious man, a grin on his face, a gun with a silencer in his hand. Oh no, he didn't…

"Relax Hobbes, it's a dart gun." Fawkes quickly explained to him, seeing the questioning look in his eyes.

"Good." He now saw the darts sticking out of the men's backs. "Good."

"Hey, you all right man? You're looking a little pale there." Hobbes looked up to find Darien at his side, concerned eyes looking him over.

"I'm good."

"Right." Darien reached toward one of the ropes, meaning to untie it. Hobbes heard his almost panicked voice yelling out.

"Don't!" The hands froze in the air. "They uhhh, gave me something. It's making the whole touching thing a little sensitive." Darien stared at him, trying to figure out what to do. Hobbes decided to make the choice for the kid. "Untie them, just be really careful." Darien nodded and moved slower this time, Hobbes still felt the need to warn him again. "Really careful Fawkes. Like a gland handling careful."

"I got it." Sure he did, not. Hobbes felt his partner's fingers gently pulling at the ropes, he was doing his best to be careful. It still felt like each movement was a saw trying to rip through his bone. He didn't groan once though, which was good. Bobby Hobbes didn't groan if he could help it. Finally, it was over and he began to breathe easily again, opening his eyes. He hadn't even realized they were closed. Darien watched him, worry on his face. 

"You gonna be all right a minute? I'm gonna go and make sure there's no one else around."

"Knock yourself out kid, I'll take care of this place." Fawkes stood and walked quickly out of the room. The moment he was gone Hobbes released a shuddering breath, sitting as still as possible in his chair. This had been a close call, but it was good now. Everything would be okay, just as soon as he stopped hurting. He flexed his arms and felt the searing pain once again rise from his wrists. Damn, this really sucked.

The keeper moved quickly about her lab, setting up the equipment she needed. It was one in the morning, and she was in full working mode. About an hour ago she had arrived at the 'club' with a handful of agents to back her up. They had quickly found Darien, or he had found them she should say, and she had given him his shot. With that out of the way he quickly explained what had happened. It looked like Hobbes had been used as another experiment.

When they had arrived in the room where Hobbes was, the agent was just getting out of his 

chair, swaying from the effort. She and Darien had rushed to his side preparing to grab his arms to hold him steady. They never made it that far as he yelled at them to stay back. He ordered them not to touch him. She would have loved to disobey at the time, but when they were out in the field like that, he was the one who was in charge. 

The agents she had brought with her entered the room and began cuffing the unconscious men. Hobbes telling them where to take them, and what to do. He had stood on unsteady feet in a pair of black jeans and a brown T-shirt, ordering men around. 'Typical,' she had thought he was fine and just exaggerating on the whole drug issue…until one of the agents accidentally bumped into him. In a matter of seconds Hobbes had spun around and knocked the guy flat. Then he began a steady stream of cursing while doubling over his fist. Then she had forced him to come to the infirmary, whether he was in charge or not. He obliged, which meant he was hurting.

Now he was sitting in Darien's chair, watching her move around, making comments about how lovely she looked this early in the morning. Darien stood at his side, joining in the conversation. She ignored them, until she needed the blood sample.

"I'm going to take your blood now, just so we can determine how much longer the drug will stay in your system.

"You can check my blood any day Keep." He commented, and then turned to his partner. "Could you get me an ice tea out of the vending machine upstairs?"

"What? Am I your slave now?"

"A little courtesy for your partner here? I haven't had anything but a beer tonight and I'm feeling a little thirsty. My wallets in the jacket pocket." He nodded towards a chair that had the material thrown over its back.

"Fine, fine. But delivery will cost you some." A drink actually sounded good to Claire at the moment. "Could you get me one too Darien?"

"Yeah sure, whatever." She gave him the money and he left. Hobbes looked at her, all serious.

"You got any belts or anything lying around here? Hey how about your purse strap?"

"What on earth do you need that for?" She looked at him, waiting for an answer, his eyes were so dark…

"I just need something to bite down on. Don't want to use my cheeks or anything, that would not be fun." She suddenly understood. How could she be so stupid? It was obvious that he was very sensitive to touch right now, a needle was not going to be pleasant. She quickly removed her purse's straps and handed them to him. He nodded his thanks and placed them in his mouth. Had he done something like this before? Oh well, it didn't matter. She quickly sterilized his arm and plunged the needle it, taking as much blood as she needed as quickly as possible. When she had finished and looked up, she saw a tear slide out of one tightly squeezed eye. 

Her heart went out to him in that moment as he regained his composure. When Darien came back he was joking around again as if nothing had happened, happily drinking his tea. She left them to perform her tests and think. They seemed to need some time alone.

When it came time to go home that night, Hobbes had stood up from his chair slowly, testing every movement. It hurt to walk, the pressure on his feet was almost unbearable, but it also hurt to sit, and lie, and basically anything else he did, so he didn't see any reason to complain. Kinsley had supposedly overdosed him on the drug, and it would take a few days to leave his system. A few days to long if you asked Hobbes.

He ignored the worried glances the Keeper had kept throwing at him, insisting he was fine. Darien must have picked up on them because he stated, not offered or suggested but 'stated' that he was taking Hobbes home. Hobbes didn't really feel like arguing, and he knew he wouldn't be able to drive himself, so he had agreed.

The first two days had passed in a haze, but he remembered Darien always being there. It was kind of embarrassing actually, needing to be helped by someone so much. He hated appearing so weak in front of his partner and friend, but he couldn't help it. Darien had probably thought he was the biggest wimp he'd ever known. He probably wouldn't have been that wrong either. Hobbes hadn't liked that idea of appearing weak, so he'd tried to put up a tough front, like none of it really bothered him, like he didn't ache with every movement. He'd bumped his arm on the door frame to his washroom once and hadn't been able to stop the tears. Darien hadn't said anything.

Then, whenever he had been sleeping his nightmares had plagued him. They hadn't let him rest very much, forcing to remember other times when he was certain he had hurt this much. Pain was a funny thing really. When you're suffering with it, it's the worst thing in the world. You wish it would just end. When it does end, you can't remember what it felt like, only that you didn't want to feel it again. His nightmares had stirred all sorts of memories though. The images of his fellow soldiers dying in his arms, or calling his name as he ran past them to fight the enemy. Then one time, a soldier he had been trying to calm had transformed from a stranger into Darien. Hobbes had freaked. He'd woken up crying, screaming, and Darien had been there, by his side.

The younger man had placed his hand gently on Hobbes' shoulder and told him to lie still, to relax and that everything was okay. Hobbes had looked into his eyes and had seen the worry, the fear, the questions. Darien was there with him, helping him, soothing him with words and gentle strokes on his arm. It had worked, and Hobbes was greatful. Slowly he had found himself watching his partner, studying him when he wasn't watching. He was falling for Darien, and he was falling hard. When Darien had gone home and Hobbes could once again function alone, he had had time to think about it, and tell himself it was just a stupid infatuation. Darien would never feel the same way about him. Nobody felt that way about Bobby Hobbes. He soon found out that he was wrong.

It had been a week now since that Kinsley guy had drugged Hobbes. He was fine now, at least he seemed fine to Darien. The night it all happened Darien had driven Hobbes home, the silence had been deafening in the van, but when they had arrived Darien had followed Hobbes up. The man looked at him in surprise. 

"What are you doing Fawkes?"

"Hey, you aren't exactly in the best condition to be staying here alone. I'm just gonna park it on the couch, make sure you're all right."

"Don't waste your sleep kid, I'll be fine." Darien been shut down, like he had expected, but that hadn't stopped him.

"Don't worry about my sleep, it's yours you should worry about." 

Hobbes was too tired to argue, but Darien had seen an almost defeated look in his eyes. That night he had woken up twice to his partner's nightmares, which had him crying out into the night, pleading for forgiveness over something Darien knew nothing about. It broke his heart, he didn't say anything about it to Hobbes. He'd just supported him while he had gotten better.

Now he was back in Hobbes' car, driving to who knows where. Hobbes had called him earlier that evening, asking if he was doing anything that night. Him do something? What a joke. So now Hobbes was taking him somewhere, and his only explanation was that he owed him something. Eventually they pulled up outside a club. Oh man, another club…Darien had had enough of these for a lifetime, but he just made a joke and followed his partner into the building.

The music was loud, fast, and…good! Darien stood and stared in surprise the second he was through the door. At the back wall there was a live band wailing away on their shiny instruments. Swing? 

The dance floor dominated the center of the place, couples twirling and jumping, laughing and having a great time. He turned and looked down at Bobby, who was grinning like a kid and waving at a couple of people in the place. Did he know someone everywhere he went? Suddenly the shorter man looked up at him, his eyes grinning right along with his mouth, Darien couldn't resist it any longer. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Bobby's, claiming them as his. Bobby returned the kiss a moment, before breaking it and looking away. A moment later they were grinning at each other again and Darien found himself being led to the dance floor.

"Bobby, I don't know how to swing dance." 

Bobby just grinned.

End.


End file.
